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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29237019">The Choices We Make</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412'>Llama1412</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>King and Country [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Relationship Reveal, Secret Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:46:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,184</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29237019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Scoia'tael and the Blue Stripes had both traveled to Vergen to prepare to meet the Kaedweni army in battle. In the few quiet moments before the clash, Iorveth and Roche take a moment alone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iorveth/Vernon Roche</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>King and Country [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146260</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Choices We Make</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Apparently I'm writing this 'verse backwards, so uh... sorry if anything is unclear!<br/>This is set during Witcher 2, only Foltest was never assassinated.</p><p>Written for the prompt: “We’ve all made mistakes. You’re going to be okay, I promi—” His words fell away with a violent jerk of my arm.</p><p>“It’s not a <i>mistake,”</i> I hissed through curled lips. “It was a choice and I chose it readily. Do not coddle me like I’m some toddler who got into a mess. I wanted this, and I will accept the fallout.”</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Roche had always known that his love was tainted. It was inevitable that it would ruin anything it touched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d forgotten that for a short period of time, caught up in the euphoria of Iorveth wanting </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But now, everything was coming crashing down around them and he knew it was his fault. Once more, his love was bringing trouble to its recipient.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And once more, he knew it would be discarded. He wanted to believe otherwise, he really did. But why would Iorveth </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to keep him when the choice was Roche’s love or Iorveth’s command and people?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> wouldn’t choose him. And Iorveth was so wholly dedicated to his people. The elf had given up </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be the tool his people needed to achieve freedom. What was Roche in comparison to all that?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth stared at the door that his second in command had slammed closed with a blank look on his face and Roche knew in that moment what he had to do. Because they may have been happy a moment ago, stealing a quiet moment together before the war with Kaedwen fell upon them, but Roche knew what he was worth. And he knew what Iorveth was worth. It was worth the heartbreak to protect Iorveth’s dream.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He closed burning eyes, willing back the tears that wanted to come. For just a moment, he let himself remember the soft feeling of moments ago, before the interruption – the hard surface of the desk against the back of his thighs, the charged space between their bodies, the way Iorveth had leaned in close to him, resting their foreheads against each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Roche took a deep breath, swallowed his emotions down, and forced himself to offer Iorveth the solution the elf needed. “Tell them it’s a misunderstanding, a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes, they’ll understand that. You’re going to be okay, I promise–” his words tapered off as Iorveth jerked his arm away violently and Roche couldn’t help but flinch in anticipation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth snarled quietly, hands coming up to frame Roche’s face and forcing their eyes to meet. “You’re not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mistake,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Iorveth hissed and Roche’s breath abruptly abandoned him. “You were a choice and one I made readily. Do not coddle me like I’m some toddler that’s gotten into a mess. I wanted this, and I will accept the fallout.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche didn’t realize he was crying until Iorveth’s thumbs brushed underneath his eyes and Iorveth’s forehead pressed against his own again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re worth fighting for, Vernon,” Iorveth whispered. “And I will never regret fighting to keep you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche opened his mouth, but no words came to him. Iorveth tilted their heads until their lips slid together lightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will never regret you,” Iorveth vowed against his mouth, and Roche’s knees trembled, threatening collapse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that moment, the door was flung open once more and three elves stared at them in horror.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s true,” one of them murmured, disgust evident in their voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth ignored them, pressing their lips together once more. Roche closed his eyes, fixing this moment in his mind, just in case. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The intruding elves made discontent noises, clearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> pleased that Iorveth was ignoring them in favor of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>human.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are not fit to lead us,” the first elf growled, and Roche could hear the sound of a sword being drawn. Fuck. “I challenge you, Iorveth,” the elf hissed and Iorveth huffed a sigh, finally parting from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I accept. And when I win, you will never speak against my choice of partner again.” Iorveth’s voice had shifted from soft and sweet to cold and threatening in a mere second and Roche had to admit, that was just as attractive as Iorveth’s loving words had been.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You will lose,” another elf stepped forward, weapon at the ready. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche tensed, ready to fight at Iorveth’s side, but Iorveth pressed a palm against his shoulder. “This is my responsibility. I’ll take care of them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And with that, Iorveth pulled out his swords and launched himself at the three elves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche bit his lip, hurrying after them as the fight spilled outdoors. Three against one wasn’t the best odds, but he had faith in Iorveth. He of all people knew how stubborn the elf was, and Iorveth </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> much believed that the best defense was an attack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shockingly short time later, Iorveth stood over the three downed elves, swords raised high. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and sweat dripped down his face, but his voice was strong and clear when he barked, “would anyone else like to object?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were some low mutterings from the gathered spectators, but no one stepped forward and Iorveth nodded, turning back to his defeated opponents. “The only reason I don’t kill you for your affront is because we need all the bodies we can manage for the coming battle. Do not mistake my mercy for tolerance.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth’s voice was as sharp as his blades and Roche could see the defeated elves swallowing in fear. Iorveth was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone to mess with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth sheathed his swords and walked back to where Roche stood in the doorway, pushing Roche inside until he could close the door and collapse back upon it with a low groan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche stared at him, eyes tracing the lines of his face that showed exhaustion and sorrow, but no regret.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Marry me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The words slipped out of his mouth before Roche had a chance to think about them and Iorveth’s eyes shot open in surprise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roche licked his lips. They were about to fight in a war in which they were horribly outnumbered. This very well could be their last chance to spend time together before death came for them. There was no point in holding back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Marry me,” he repeated, voice rough with emotion. “Build a life with me, here, in Vergen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth’s mouth dropped open, but the corners of his lips lifted in a slight smile. “What about Temeria?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about it?” Roche shrugged. “I – I can’t say I won’t keep fighting to improve things in Temeria. But I want – I want to have a life with you, for real.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iorveth surged forward and kissed him, hands cupping his ears softly and pulling him into the elf. “Yes,” Iorveth said against his mouth. Yes, I–”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The low echoing tone of a dwarven war horn pierced the air and they startled apart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s time,” Roche murmured, eyes frantically attempting to memorize Iorveth’s face. This war would not part them, he swore to himself. They were going to win this battle and they were going to live, and afterwards, he would ask Iorveth again, ask him </span>
  <em>
    <span>properly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And if Iorveth said yes, then maybe the small part of him that feared this would all come crashing down would fall silent. Because he had made his choice, and he would take responsibility for it, just as Iorveth had. He loved Iorveth and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with the elf.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If that wasn’t worth fighting for, what was?</span>
</p>
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